


Koi no yokan

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Keith (Voltron), Demisexual Keith (Voltron), Fisherman!Shiro, Fluff, Gay Shiro (Voltron), Japan, Language Barrier, M/M, Meddling Friends, Meet-Cute, Pets, Shiro deserves nice things, Sight-seeing, Strangers to Lovers, ballet dancer Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: transl. The feeling upon meeting someone that falling in love with him or her is inevitable.





	1. I felt a spark

**Author's Note:**

> me @ me: why don't you write more sheith  
> me @ me: but i have like a week until my lectures start and i'm not feeling so hot emotion-wise and body-wise-  
> me @ me: MULTICHAPTER. SHEITH. DO IT  
> me @ me: oh god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ballerino Keith grows bored and gets an interesting letter.

 

Choosing ballet was never quite what Keith aimed to do: but that life had dragged him into it with or without his consent.

Not much he can do when his mother was a classical ballet dance recognized worldwide: she hadn’t given him any other choice in his life. His Japanese father had been a movie director of a few foreign language flicks but had never told Keith why he had had a falling out with his family. Thus Keith had never had any extended family other than his mother’s wayward great aunt.

He almost wishes he spoke Japanese, maybe he could find his father’s family that way.  

He doesn’t speak it other than a few random sentences as his father never spoke it at home. And now even those sentences are fading from him, considering it’s already been two years since his parents passed away in that plane crash, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth and more money than he knows what to do with.

It doesn’t matter. He inherited his father’s looks and his mother’s attitude, keeps her pointe shoes locked up in one of the cupboards in the apartment he shares with five other people: all students of a nearby college.

He’s the only one with a job and he’s the only one- probably, it’s not like and the five others ever befriended each other- who wishes he was at school instead. He’d gone to a few academies, had clung to his mother’s hand ever since he could walk upright but he’d been mostly homeschooled for as long as he can remember.

He’s taken a few Open University classes but never more than that. He doesn’t know what he wants to do. He doesn’t know where he wants to be.

When he’s on stage or training, he empties his mind. He’s praised for his techniques, praised for being a son his mother would have been proud of but his heart has never been in it.

He has no idea what he wants and that- that he finds terrifying. He’s only got a couple of good years under his belt of being a professional anyway and he has to think of something- should he go further into studying languages? Should he take up his friends’ suggestions to travel?

He’s twenty-eight, closing on twenty-nine and he still often feels like his mother is still there, whispering in his ear how his back should be straighter. Or his father is there, patting him half-heartedly on the back but never telling him he’s proud of him.

He’s thought of moving away from his cramped apartment for the past three years but has never gotten around to it- he’s not friends with his roommates (especially not the one who knocked on Keith’s door while drunk and asked him if he’s a fairy- Keith slammed the door to his face and never got an apology), he could certainly afford better but the apartment is in a comfortable place and at a reasonable distance from his training hall.

It’s just sensible not to move, right?

He’s comfortable where he is in life, even lost as he is.

He is.

X

“You totes aren’t,” Ezor chirps over her chips, smacking Keith’s cheek with her long red braid.

“Shove off,” he says.

“You aren’t,” Acxa remarks from her armchair, the bowl of popcorn between her legs.

“Guys,” Keith says and tosses a popcorn at both of them.

“How about we focus on the movie,” Ulaz interrupts with a cough and less gently kicks Ezor in the thigh which she retaliates by tossing a candy at his head.

“The movie’s shit anyway,” Keith says. Sometimes he regrets a little agreeing to these movie nights with his colleagues and sometimes-friends: he loves them dearly, he does, even dated Acxa a few years ago but that had fallen over when they had both realized some great love hadn’t been born between them.

But they’re such kids sometimes and they’re so- meddlesome.

“It kinda is,” Ezor whispers and grabs herself a pillow. It’s her favourite one- Keith knows it from the numerous sleepovers he’s had here, at Ezor and Acxa’s apartment and had more often than not seen Ezor drool all over said pillow. He knows to stay away from it by now.

“I’d still like to finish it,” Ulaz says and chews thoughtfully on his own healthy snacks. Keith has known him for ten years and has never seen the guy indulge himself.  

Ezor shushes dramatically and shoves her face into her pillow again.

Keith huffs and tries to concentrate. But his focus is elsewhere- in the conversation just now born from a scene where the main character questions his life and his purpose in it.

Why isn’t he happy? He’s got no parents, sure but it’s not like they were ever there for him in the first place. They were just people who brought him into this life.

Keith has money. He has connections. He has friends. He has a fairly active social life, indulges in romance from time to time although he finds it hard to even kiss them when he feels barely more than platonic love for them.

It’s not a big deal. Things are good for him. He’s at the top of the world. His name is internationally recognized. He’s even got fans. On the internet, apparently, judging from the amount of squeals there are in the comments whenever he dares to update his various social media.

So why isn’t he happy?

He falls back into his thoughts, staring somewhere through the television screen. He doesn’t hear Acxa crunching on her popcorn or Ezor mumbling into her pillow. He doesn’t hear Ulaz snacking on yet another peanut or Thace’s snores from the corner armchair.

For a moment he’s back in the past, when there was clearly only one path meant for him. He danced before he walked but he was quickly whipped into shape to dance the way his mother wanted him to dance and now he knows no other way.

His parents had gotten divorced way before he had even been born, his father intent to going back to his mistresses, his mother too married to her work.

Had either been happy in their situations, really? No wonder Keith is like this.

“Whu?” He blinks, snapping back into reality with a stinging cheek.

Ezor’s huge eyes are blinking at him, only slightly dazed from the caffeine and sugar she had consumed during the evening.

“Hun, you look super out of it. Sorry I slapped you.”

She grins.

He doesn’t grin back, instead just frowns and raises a hand to his cheek. He looks at his other companions: Ulaz is deeply concentrating on what looks like the final battle. Acxa has long since abandoned her popcorn and is instead painting her finger nails.

“I think I just need to go to bed,” Keith says. He feels, for the lack of a better word, anxious. He wants his own bed and the privacy of his own room.

“Oh,” Ezor says, her face falling. “Aren’t you staying over like the others?”

Keith rubs his temple. “Nah, I think I’m just gonna head home.”

“Go safely, someone will snatch you up otherwise,” Acxa says breezily from her chair without even looking up. Keith tosses a popcorn kernel at her. She snatches it up with her mouth.  

Ulaz blinks back to existence with Keith’s weight leaving the couch. “Oh. Good night, Keith. Go safely.”

“I’ll be fine, worrywarts,” Keith huffs and gathers his things.

He breathes deep when he leaves the apartment and finds the chilly end of summer air. His eyes burn, like from unshed tears but when he rubs them, he feels no wetness.

His heart is still thudding a little too fast so he begins to walk, digging out his earbuds. Thank god the buses run this late. Perks of living in a good neighbourhood.

He sits all the way in the back and watches the dimly lit scenery outside. He’s gone through his route a thousand times.

Goddammit, but he’s so bored.

X

He performs in his usual way during his daily life and work. He is outstanding in the fairy tale performance of that Saturday and receives a standing applause along with his fellow performers.

The emptiness inside persists.

X

He spends a day off lounging in nothing but his pyjama pants. He brews his tea too strong. He does his laundry. He listens to his roommates- two of them, the couple- bicker loudly. He gets a stack of his mail and goes to his room to look through it.

Bill. Bill. Bi- wait. That’s not-

“Japan?”

As far as he knows, his father’s side of the family doesn’t know his current whereabouts. They hadn’t even come to the funeral. But that’s what the envelope says- Takako Kogane, this and that prefecture-

“Mihonoseki?”

Keith only knows the usual big cities like Tokyo. Is this even a city? Maybe it’s a town. One of those tiny ones he often hears about but never knows the names of. His father had been born in one.

Maybe it’s even this one.

As far as Keith knows, Takako is his paternal grandmother but he’s never seen her as his father had been practically disowned.

His hands quiver as he tears the envelope open with care, taking out a carefully folded letter. He unfolds it. Places it on his lap. At least it’s in English.

 

_Dear Keith,_

_this letter must come as a surprise, we are certain of it. Yet it is one that is long overdue._

_as our relations to Hideo were unfortunately what they were, we were estranged from you and your dear mother as well. We would have come to the funeral but Nishiki’s- your paternal grandfather, as it is- health was ailing and we couldn’t afford the trip._

_As it stands now, we have come to the agreement that we wish to extend a hand to you, dear Keith. I am your grandmother, Takako. This letter is transcribed into English by your aunt, Nana._

_We saw you when you were just a baby. Did you know your mother wrote to us long after your father stopped?_

_We’ve tried to think of ways to reach you over the years but we finally decided on this. We apologize it took this long._

_We wish to meet you, Keith. Finally._

_Enclosed in this is a planeticket. If you wish to see us as well, please come. We will wait for you._

 

_Best wishes,_

_your grandmother Takako_

_your grandfather Nishiki_

_your aunt Nana_

 

_ps._ _Mihonoseki is a fishing village. It is very wet most of the time and very cool so please bring appropriate clothing._

 

Keith blinks. And blinks. He folds the letter again and takes out the aforementioned plane ticket that he didn’t even initially notice.

It leaves in a week from the nearby airport to Tokyo Haneda.

_Do I even have a passport?_

_Do I even want to know these people? They’re strangers to me!_

He reads the letter again. And reads it again.

Maybe he should take this chance though: maybe a change in scenery would do him good.

He puts both the letter and the ticket into the envelope and puts it on the table. He takes out his phone next and dials his boss’ number.

She won’t be happy to hear him give his notice but it is about time for his vacation days anyway. He expects for her to sigh, for her to get irritated so he’s surprised when all she says is _about time._

Then she says to keep a working phone with him so he can at least be reached in case he needs to fly back but as there are no new performances scheduled for months, he can practically take all the time he needs.

After Keith ends the call, he flops back down on his bed.

He’s never been to Japan. He’s never been anywhere outside of the USA.

With his money, he could but he’s just… never dared to.

He places his hands on his face and takes a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i know professional ballerinas and ballerinos won't be stuffing their faces full of unhealthy shit but they're still humans
> 
> everyone gotta have a cheat day once in a while 
> 
> leave me be ok  
> i know nothing about ballet and that's not what this fic is even about
> 
> also i'm gonna change POVs so 2nd chapter is gonna be from Shiro's! also it's gonna come out once i decide if i want pre-kerberos Shiro or post-kerberos Shiro. .. both are good though.


	2. I saw a spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certified Old Man™ Shiro goes on with his unchanging life and then hears some intriguing news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO apparently Mihonoseki is no longer its own little town but a part of this bigger city called Matsue.. OH WELL I doubt its inhabitants just instantly stop calling it that though
> 
> and this is a fanfic who cares
> 
> aANYWAYS. HEre's chill little ossan!Shiro enjoying his time, not at all prepared to what's about to hit him.
> 
> hint: he's slender, flexible, hot-headed and pretty as fuck. ;)

 “-aaaand thirty-five.” Shiro flops to his stomach on his floor and takes a few deep breaths. Thirty five push-ups each morning. Followed by a thirty-minute walk, then it’s off to the coastline to draw nets with his father. Then it’s back home to cook with his mother and maybe go see some friends.

He’s got enough options to fill up every day of his life.

He’s rarely bored. He goes out for drinks with friends, sometimes opens the sake for his parents too and lets them be just by themselves: Shiro had never officially moved out from his childhood home and had taken up residence with a couple of friends just one block away.

Just to breathe a bit.

But he’s never really alone.

He takes out his Golden Retriever Hachi whenever he can, but otherwise lets his mother take care of it. Kimiko probably loves that dog more than Shiro anyway: probably loves Hachi more than she loves her husband, a fact that Tetsuya seems to have accepted.

Shiro sometimes spots his parents curled up by the TV with Hachi at their feet and the family cat Hanten on the backrest of the couch, speaking in low voices, cuddling like they were in their honeymoon: during those times he quickly ducks out of the doorway and leaves them be.

So all in all, Shiro’s life is sweet as it is.

Mihonoseki buzzes around him in his daily life, a calm spot on the map where no wars or terrors of the world don’t touch. Shiro’s been through numerous other cities doing deliveries of various fish and baked goods and even went to his high school in Kyoto: but this is where he always returns.

At twenty-four, he already feels like he’s eighty-four: but it’s alright. Even if his friends gently make fun of him for his old man-tendencies and how he likes his early nights and never wants to go to any high-end clubs in Shibuya or Harajuku: most of them are city-born or born abroad of all things. None of them know the sheer peace Shiro feels at knowing his life has this one path, this one calm path that he is perfectly content to walk on.

Even if he has to ignore his mother’s hints that she’d like to see some grandchildren.

Even if he has to ignore the truth that he hasn’t told his parents yet- or anyone in their tiny village. His friends know though and the fact that they don’t hold him being gay against him makes him a little bit happy.

Maybe it helps that Lance (Cuban-born, currently studying and living somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo with a bunch of relatives) is outrageously bisexual and mostly holds people being assholes over their heads.

Shiro’s perfectly content to let Lance be the one who’s out. Shiro just denies his mother’s attempts at setting him up- his father having given up the instant he noticed Shiro would rather go to the sea or watch the stars than do anything romance-related- and never brings up the feelings he’s had years to get used to.

To his friends, he’s Shiro, a little quirky, a little silent, closeted gay man who’s never had a relationship, never had any interest in it or experienced one. A couple of crushes, sure, but they had all dwindled when Shiro had at first squashed them in a fit of panic and then just ignored them until they went away.

He downed every twinge of heartache into his work. He’d gotten pretty good at cooking over the years but he’ll probably only reach his mother’s level when his her age: he’d gotten even better at fishing, his hands steady and quick as he draws nets with his father.

Their little boat is called Kuro, aptly named by a five-year-old Shiro with ink-sticky hands. It’s been there for Shiro and Tetsuya since forever and bravely dragged their caught fish and other sea creatures back home. It’s a sturdy little thing, painted mostly black and deep cleaned by Shiro and his father whenever they can. It’s the pride and joy of their little family.

Shiro’s father always says he doesn’t expect Shiro to follow in his footsteps. Just because I’m stuck here with the baba, doesn’t mean you have to be, boyo.

Shiro always dismisses that thought. He’d do something else if he wanted to. Should he go take a job up in the big cities like many of his friends? Or like the relatives in their fancy, rich cars he often sees cruising from their village and into it?

Shiro knows he can do what he wants. This is where he wants to be. This is what he wants to do. Sure, fishing and cleaning is often filthy and smells atrocious but the results are always satisfying and keeps the bread on their table.

And as Tetsuya taught Shiro how to drive years ago, Shiro’s always free to take the family car to the cities. He’s free, he’s always been free in a way most people stuck in a 9-to-5 loop aren’t.

Some part of him sometimes does wonder if it will all come to an end one day but he doesn’t dwell on it. What good has panicking ever done for anyone, after all.

He loves his family, his pets, and the peace of his little town and has no idea how else life could be. He gets enough of that from reading his books or doing online courses for various languages- he’s so stuck on English, having gotten only a few words yet, mostly interested in Korean right now- or watching various movies with his friends.

Of course he has dreams, dreams he can’t entirely let go of but they’re just that. Dreams. Something intangible, something unusable. He’s helping his parents with their business that he’ll one day inherit, he’s keeping a secret from them but that’s fine, that’s alright. Sometimes these things happen and maybe he’ll find a nice girl one day who won’t mind that he doesn’t want to kiss her, much less do anything else.

His dreams give him nice things to think about, he’s at peak physical condition, he has a large social circle and knows everyone in their village by name… what is there to complain about?

He’s itching to do just that when he carries the last box of freshly packaged squid to the Kogane-house. There had been three boxes, every single one of them huge and even Shiro’s considerable muscles are screaming by the time he lays the last one to the kitchen table.

“Ya having a party, auntie?”

Both Takako Kogane and her daughter Nana are present, already unloading every single box. Takako is closer to eighty already but still spry and bright-eyed.

“Obviously,” she says and reaches- and reaches- to pinch Shiro’s cheek. She barely reaches his shoulder.

“Any particular reason?” He leans against the table and bows in thanks to Nana who gives him a glass of water.

“Oh, didn’t we tell you?” Nana says, grinning instantly. She’s almost frighteningly tall for a Japanese woman with a fierce glint to her eye, Shiro can’t help but wonder what her brother had been like. Shiro had never met Ryou but had heard that he moved to the USA, married some ballet lady, had a kid and then died in an accident a couple of years ago. The falling out between that part of the family and these Koganes had happened a long time ago and Shiro had never pried into it. These people are his neighbours, his customers and sometimes even friends but they are not that close and it’s just not proper to pry.

“Something exciting?” He asks, emptying his glass.

“My nephew is coming,” Nana says, a hint of sadness to her gaze when she turns back to her task. “We kinda- want to make up for never being in his life.”

“Nephew? Uncle Ryou’s kid?”

“Who else,” Nana says. “His name is Keith. He’s, well, he’s about your age, I think. A little older?”

“Sorry to be rude, but isn’t it kind of his father’s fault for cutting himself off from you?” Shiro frowns, crossing his arms. “You never mentioned this nephew to me or any of us, aside from that first time.”

Nana shares a look with Takako. “Because we didn’t want to intrude,” Nana says finally and tightens her apron. “And that boy’s famous too, what would he want with some relatives he’s never even seen? But we wrote him a letter.” Nana digs through her considerable pockets for a second, then digs out a rather rumpled envelope. “And he answered. He says he’s never been to Japan and that his father never spoke of us or his home country. Did you know Ryou did some movies and even once almost won an Oscar?”

Shiro huffs and smiles. “Yep.” He glances at Takako whose shoulders have tightened, just a bit.

“I just-“ Nana takes out the rumpled letter from its envelope. “Want a piece of my brother back. You get it, Shiro, right?”

“Of course. So what’s his name? Your nephew? Am I gonna have to show him around?”

Nana grins again, instantly taking years of grief from her face. “It’s Keith. Keith Kogane. Yep. I know. Ryou kept the name and all. Keith says he’s nervous but that he’d like to know his relatives.”

Shiro smiles. “That’s good. That’s very good. Are you happy?”

Nana nods. “Of course, silly. I even took leave from my work, see? Unfortunately that husband of mine hasn’t so he probably won’t even show up on time, that rascal.”

“Always so brutal with uncle Hidetaka,” Shiro snorts.

“It’s only out of love, kiddo. You’ll get it one day,” Nana says. “Anyways, Keith apparently speaks like two words of Japanese so I’m not gonna saddle him on you. While maybe brushing up your English might do you good, wink wink-“

“Oh, shush-“

“I’ll just save you the awkwardness, okay?”

Shiro huffs. “Okay.” Maybe some rich, famous stranger won’t be messing up Shiro’s daily schedule then. Shiro can’t help but be a tiny bit interested.

“Also, if you want to check him out, you should google him. Or watch him on Youtube. He has amazing rhythm, from what little I understand of ballet,” Nana says and shoos him out of the kitchen with the empty boxes.

Shiro drives back to his parents with the boxes and the car, then jogs to his own place. He says hello to his roommates and then locks himself up in his room, opening up his laptop.

What was it? Keith?

“Keith,” Shiro says to himself, his tongue not quite settling on the foreign name. It’d be nice to have a new face in the village though.

Shiro taps his fingers on his knee while he waits for the Wi-Fi to connect- the connection often bad because of the storms and their faraway location- and his ancient laptop, a bulky grey thing, to actually open. Shiro’s got the patience of a small village so he manages not to feel an inkling of frustration as he taps out youtube to the address bar.

“Keith… Kogane…”

He doesn’t expect to find much. Much less what looks like a one hundred and thousand videos of mostly ballet performances, but also some training videos and some that look like snatched from Instagram. Shiro never opened an account himself, busy with his life as he is.

“Famous, huh?”

Shiro opens the first one, gets a little lost at first looking for Keith but oh- that’s- that’s gotta be- Shiro’s eyebrows lift up, his cheeks go a little hot. For what looks like a slender frame, Keith seems to have great amounts of power, to be able to lift his lady like that.

Shiro almost feels illicit, watching this and feeling what he feels for other men because Keith- holy damn, Gods above et cetera- is incredibly enthralling to watch.

This person is coming here? This is the Kogane’s long-lost nephew?

Shiro watches another video. And another. Keith dances on the tiny screen, sometimes with colleagues, sometimes alone and each time Shiro has to press his hand to his mouth to feel that he’s still breathing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve never been to japan so everything i know about it comes from 1) games 2) anime 3) friends who’ve been there lmao 
> 
> SoRry this is such a filler, i hate introduction chapters before Anything Happens
> 
> Also I'm gonna use "miss" and "mister" in place of honorifics as I find them off-putting in fics and also I'm gonna try not to use that many Japanese words as I find switching between languages kinda off-putting as well. Idk. 
> 
> Shiro and Keith are gonna talk a little different, idk how i'm gonna make it clear they're speaking two different languages at first though.. but I'll find a way!
> 
> ALSO. I don't wanna make rural Japan seem like some super backwards place but from what I've read, it's pretty much its world where time has stopped. While Japan all in all seems to have started embracing same-sex-relations a little more, I doubt a tiny fishing village would be that forward... (sorry)


	3. fresh air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith meets his relatives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's just pretend i said something about Keith's mom having next to no relatives ok

Acxa had gracefully agreed to drive Keith and his bags to the bustling International Airport. He’s silently grateful for her companionship as he’s sure he would have been lost instantly: he’s been through this same airport a million times but each time the sheer amount of people makes him dizzy.

Acxa doesn’t offer to carry his bags for him though and he wouldn’t have let her.

“You want me to wait while you get to check-out?”

“It’s okay, you can go back,” he says and fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt. He’s checked the weather in Japan a million times and figures if he needs something, he has a bunch of relatives who can borrow clothes for him and he can just buy new ones.

That thought makes his cheeks colour: it’s not like he wants to wave his money around.

“You sure?” Acxa squints at him, that sharp stare known to bring younger ballerinas to tears.

Keith merely squirms. “Yeah. Okay. Come on. Hug.”

She snorts but opens her arms anyway. She squeezes a little too hard and Keith tickles her sides in retaliation. She lets out a startled giggle and steps away from him, flipping him the middle finger.

“Fuck off then, you idiot.”

“I’ll Skype you guys with the number you can reach me with once I get my Japanese phone,” Keith says.

Acxa’s sharpness changes into a slightly crooked smile. “Just don’t fall in love and forget about us, okay?”

Keith snorts. “Like I would. Bye then, Axy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Acxa huffs. “Have a safe trip, Keith.”

She’s the first to turn and Keith doesn’t watch her go. He gets himself through the check-out and walks towards the airport café with his handbag in tow.

Only after he’s gotten some caffeine and a croissant into his system he can breathe a little easier. What am I doing? Honestly, what the hell am I even doing?

He takes out his phone and opens up the Duolingo-app: it had been the quickest fix he had managed to think of for his lack of knowledge of the language. He knows how it sounds. He can introduce himself and say goodbye and goodnight and various completely random, useless words like curse but nothing he could actually use. He hopes his aunt is the one meeting him and he hopes that she’s not the only one who can actually translate for him.

Keith groans into his coffee mug.

 _“Tadaima,”_ he whispers along with the monotone Duolingo-voice.

He just wishes he could believe in the word ‘ _home._ ‘

X

Eleven hours and twenty-eight minutes, Keith snaps awake once more from his restless sleep. He’d stared out of the window for a time. He’d eaten some peanuts and a protein bar. He’d read his book- a guidebook to rural Japan- and then dozed off some more. There is a bitter, weird taste to his mouth when he straightens in his seat and clips his seatbelt as the announcer informs the plane is about to land.

Excitement surges through his veins as he leans to stare out of the window.

He’s here. He’s really here.

There’s Mt Fuji, impossibly tall and beautiful. There’re the buildings, as tall as the ones back home and then further away, so much further away, so many bright colours that Keith can hardly keep himself in his seat. He’s thankful that there hasn’t been anyone next to him at all: he might have elbowed them in the face.

The plane rattles the announcements in both clear, chipper Japanese and accented English.

Keith is already off his seat the instant the permission to open their seatbelts is given. He takes his handbag, throws it over his shoulder and off he goes.

Reaching baggage claim, he’s already almost light-headed with the amount of people and different languages thrown around him. He catches a few words of English, then something that sounds like Russian, then Japanese, then something else- he takes a moment to breathe as he waits for his luggage to come through. Thank God one of his friends had decided to slap a massive rainbow sticker on the side, Keith doubts he would have even recognized his own black bag among the other five hundred black bags.

He takes it. He slips into the crowd slithering slowly out of the doors into the waiting area.

His heart thuds unbearably loud in his ears. Could he even recognize them? Are they going to be-

He stills when he spots his own name written in neat, smooth letters on a big white sign. It waves over the crowd, a port in the storm that Keith instantly starts drifting to.

He murmurs a few apologies as he bumps into people but then he’s through. He’s faced with two women and one man: who he presumes are the grandparents and the aunt.

Keith scrambles for the right thing to say in the right language, but aunt Nana beats him to it: she’s easily taller than him but has such a warm grin that he feels welcomed instantly:

“Welcome to Japan, nephew,” she says and lowers the sign.

“Hello,” he says, cheeks hot and gazing from one person to another. “I- I presume you’re Nana, right?”

Nana grins. “Right on! And these are your grandparents, Takako and Nishiki. Nishiki’s deaf so don’t worry about the right language with him. Okay?”

Keith feels the ridiculous desire to bow as the tiny, older woman takes a step closer and claps his face between her wrinkled, yet strong hands.

“Um-“

Nana snorts. “Just let her look at you. Also, you can call her _obaasan_ or _obaachan,_ whichever she prefers. She’ll tell you or me if she wants something else.” Nana then turns towards Nishiki and fires off what looks like a few signs, mouthing along with the words. The old man squints but he nods and offers a crooked half-smile to Keith.

Grandma Takako murmurs to herself and turns Keith’s face from side to side.

“Um,” he says again.

Takako hums. She looks over her shoulder at Nana and says something in Japanese.

Nana snorts again. “She wants to feed you. I’ve told her you’re a ballet dancer and you guys are generally skinny but does she listen? Nah.”

 _“O-obaasan,”_ Keith tries. Takako lets go and smiles at him.

“Food,” she says and like on cue, his stomach rumbles.

He feels dazed as he gets a pat on the shoulder from Nishiki - his grandfather- and a pinch to the cheek from Takako.

“You okay, kid?” Aunt Nana asks, wrapping a friendly arm around his shoulder and even taking his handbag from him. She has an accent, but her English is surprisingly good.

“It’s kind of lot to take in,” Keith admits. “I mean, dad never- never talked about any of you. And I’m not really familiar with mom’s side of the family either; I’ve been so wrapped up in work and all.” To his surprise and shock, his eyes sting with sudden, unwanted tears. He freezes, so much that Nana stops too.

“Kid-“

“What am I doing?” He whispers, nudging for her to continue walking after the grandparents.

“Getting to know your family,” she says, so gently that Keith nearly crumbles again.

“I think I just need food and like, sleep for at least twelve hours until jet lag passes,” he says quietly and shakes her hand off his shoulders.

“Of course, kiddo. You can sleep in the car, it’s gonna be a long ride. We can do the introductions tomorrow, okay? Mama made a butt load of food so it’s all waiting for you back home,” she says and pushes ahead to hold the door open for Keith.

His stomach grumbles again as they climb into the creaky van.

“You’re killing me, kiddo,” Nana says from the driver’s seat. She says something to Takako who instantly digs through her massive bag and pushes something wrapped in newspaper towards Keith.

 _“Oishii desu,”_ Takako says, thick eyebrows lifting.

“Um,” Keith says but takes the bundle anyway. He reveals a delicious-smelling rice ball. He takes a bite.

“Fff-“ he bites his tongue. “Damn.”

Nana’s eyes flicker towards him from the mirror and crinkle in amusement. “Good, right? It’s mama’s own recipe. I hope you like fish and squid, kiddo, because we’ve got a lot of that.”

Keith nods, mouth full of rice-y goodness. “I do. I’m gonna try to nap now.”

“Sweet dreams, nephew,” Nana says and stops at traffic lights.

Keith crumbles the newspaper in his hands and curls up in his seat and closes his eyes. He doesn’t expect to drift to sleep, lulled into peace by the melodious Japanese spoken between the others in the car.

An hour and some later, Keith snaps awake when the car slowly comes to a stop.

 _“Tadaima,”_ Takako says next to him and pats his hand.

“Yeah,” Keith says. The excitement and nerves strike him again, worse than ever: probably even worse than before going on stage. Something he’s done a thousand times.

“You okay? You look really pale,” Nana asks from the front seat as she turns off the car.

“Y-yeah,” Keith says. “Just jet lag. And hunger. I think.”

He’s the first to step out of the car to take in the sight of Mihonoseki.

It really is a village: sweet little houses side by side, the flicker of the ocean between them, sea gulls and other birds screaming overhead.

Keith inhales.

The air never gets this fresh in L.A.

He exhales, fights against the sudden wave of anxiety and turns towards the house. It’s all one floor but it’s wide and immediately cozier than anything Keith’s ever stayed in.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s get some food into you,” Nana says and takes his handbag again.

They go inside, Takako grabs Keith by the arm and shows him a room, clearly cleaned out for him. Keith fumbles through a thank you and gets his cheek pinched again. He’s then lead back to the kitchen where Nana is already unloading a feast for him.

“If there’s anything you’ve never tasted, just ask and we’ll answer,” she says with a wink and pours herself some tea.

Keith listens to the grandparents fumble something behind himself but then focuses on his aunt.

She really does look like his father.

He says so and flinches when Nana flinches and nearly pours steaming water on her own fingers. She murmurs what Keith presumes is a curse and glances at him. “We were fraternal twins, you know,” she says quietly and nods happily when Keith starts munching on the various things laid on the table.

“He never told me,” Keith says, barely tasting what he presumes is squid. “He never told me anything.”

“Since he can’t apologize, I’m going to apologize for him,” Nana says quietly and sips her tea. “I am truly sorry, Keith.” She pronounces his name a little smoother than most native English-speakers. Keith kinda likes how it sounds.

“It’s… not your fault. I think?”

Nana smiles and it’s such a sad sight that Keith stares down at his plate.

“The argument was mostly between mama and papa and Ryou but yeah…I. I stopped trying to contact Ryou years ago. I don’t know if you remember but I sent you birthday-cards until you were like fifteen.”

Keith stills. “I- no. I don’t remember. Sorry.”

His eyes sting again. Why hadn’t his father ever told him anything? There’s a family here, just waiting to take him with them and Keith had never known.

“It’s okay,” Nana whispers, her voice a little thick. “I hope you’ve taken some time off to grieve, kiddo. I know Ryou was a workaholic but... I hope you’re not.”

At that, Keith blushes.

Nana sighs. “That’s one trait I hope you didn’t inherit.”

“There’s just- been a lot. I’ve spent time with my friends too and had days off-“ but even those had been filled with things. Keith’s jaw tightens. He knows his cheeks are red.

Nana doesn’t mention it. “It’s quite alright. I hope you’ll stay for as long as you can, kiddo. And I hope you relax. We’ll teach you Japanese too, if you want.”

“That’d be nice. I’ve been studying some on my own but I know so little,” Keith says and chances a glance at his aunt. She’s not even looking at him.

He looks away when she looks at him.

“We’d be happy to. Might even be easier than all of us learning English. I know it since I’m married to the greatest man on the planet. He’s Japanese American so he knows both. A win-win.”

Keith smiles. “Am I gonna meet him too?”

Nana nods. “Sure. Once he actually takes some time off his work. We both work in Tokyo, but I visit the parents at least once a week. Takako can’t do everything by herself, especially since Nishiki lost his hearing. Thank god for the Shiroganes and especially their boy, we’d be in shit without them-“  she trails off when Keith begins to look lost.

“Oh, yeah. Shiroganes are our neighbours. Not exactly one house over, but a few. They’re fishermen like most of us and their son Takashi- we generally call him Shiro though- does deliveries to our house.”

“Oh. You don’t- have to be here all the time you know. I have my dictionary. And my apps,” Keith says, his cheeks heating up once more when Nana’s eyebrow lifts.

“I already have a week off work anyway, kiddo. Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily,” she says. Then she smiles again and it’s Keith’s father’s smile and he feels a twinge of pain inside his rib cage.

“I wasn’t-“

She starts to laugh. Keith bites back a grin of his own.

“Just teasing you, kiddo. Anyway, don’t worry about cleaning up. If you want to wash yourself, there’s a bathroom just outside of your room. Just go to sleep, you look ready to fall over.”

“Okay,” he says and finishes his food until his stomach no longer feels so hollow. Aunt Nana leaves him be when he gets up and makes his way back to his room, walking past what seems to be the living room-area and his grandparents.

 _“Thank you,”_ he says in fumbling, clumsy Japanese.

Takako’s face brightens, as does Nishiki’s once Takako signs some for him.

Nishiki says something that Keith faintly recognizes as good night: it’s clearly not even close to a night but Keith figures that once he falls asleep, he’ll sleep all the way into the next day.

He bows, just a bit to make his grandparents smile and gets to his room.

He changes into shorts- that Ezor generally calls his naughty schoolboy-shorts, but only once she’s far enough that he can’t hit her with a pillow, _I mean, Ezzy, what the hell does that even mean?!_ – and a tank top and is out like a light when his face hits the pillow.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm gonna go with Japanese being spoken in cursive in Keith's chapters and English being spoken in cursive in Shiro's chapters. Unless otherwise stated. Unless that gets too confusing. uM.
> 
> Next chap: our boys meet. ;)


	4. here I am (and here you are)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SO IT BEGINS  
> THE P I N I N G
> 
> Shiro: SO CUTE  
> Keith: SO CUTE

The day had been so long, but so productive that Shiro had gone to sleep with a tired, but happy smile on his face. He hadn’t even had the time to think much about the Kogane nephew or how swiftly and smoothly the man had danced on Shiro’s tiny screen.

So what if his father had asked him if he has a fever? So what if his mother had asked him if he’s okay when he had been staring out of the window for too long?

It’s not like he’s daydreaming about strangers.

The nephew is entirely wiped out of his mind by the time he makes his way out of his house to his morning run. The air is so pleasantly chipper that Shiro had gone for just a t-shirt and shorts. He had tugged his tiny music player into its holder on his bicep and pushed his earbuds into his ears.

He loves his daily runs: the scenery is beyond idyllic, he gets to say hello to all of the people in his neighbourhood and do a big chunk of his daily exercise at the same time. He hums along with the pop song blaring in his ears, low enough that it doesn’t make him deaf to the world, high enough that he hears the words clearly.

He runs, no matter the weather but this kind of weather is the best. The sun is just climbing up into the sky, the wind is pleasant and most of his neighbours are in their yards or out by the harbor and their boats.

He hears the various calls of his names from here and there and offers waves and smiles, even stops to pet a few dogs.

“Hi Shiro!”

“Good day to you, mrs. Kurusu!”

“Kind of a late start for you, huh, Takashi?”

Shiro snorts and runs in his place to chat with the lady at the end of the main street. Her three kids are all tiny firecrackers who instantly crowd Shiro for hugs.

“Hah, yeah- my alarm didn’t wake me and then dad called and was like, just sleep in once in a while and so I did. It looks ilk it’s gonna be a sweet, sweet day.” One of the kids- Hiro, four years old and a half- screams at him to lift him up so Shiro does, laughing when the little boy squirms and giggles. Mrs Kurusu shakes her head and continues tending to her flower bushes.

“You know, you can say no to their silly requests, Takashi,” she says.

“Nah, they’re fun,” Shiro says and lowers Hiro to the ground. The kid instantly wants to be lifted up again but Shiro shakes his head. “Hey, I gotta continue with my run. I have at least a couple of more rounds left around the neighbourhood in me. And more than a few sweet albums to get my blood pumping. Am I right?”

Hiro makes a face. Shiro offers his fist, which the little boy bumps with a toothless grin.

Shiro continues to run, this time up the hill towards the temple. Might as well do some prayers since he has extra time today.

He’s barely panting when he starts jogging up the wooden, creaky stairs up the hill. His focus is on nothing but his legs and the stairs, his music player blasting a boyband. There are fifty-six steps, not quite enough to keep him fit properly but he’s used to running up and down them.

Even now, when they’re a little wet and slippery from last night’s rainfall, he makes his way back down and then back up.

He barely realizes he’s got company, too focused on what he’s doing and the music in his ears.

Only once the stairs above him creak loud enough and someone shouts a warning, Shiro’s head snaps up and his eyes widen.

He barely manages a yelp himself before his reflexes work and he gets himself an armful of a person. Shiro’s balance wavers but somehow he manages to stay upright, his arms tight around the person’s waist.

“Um,” Shiro says, the person his arms quivering and clutching at Shiro’s shoulders.  

Then the person looks up, eyes wide and mouth opening to let out what’s unmistakably a curse.

 _“Oh fuck,”_ says Keith Kogane in the flesh.

They stare at each other for a long, long moment, Keith’s cheeks turning redder by the minute and Shiro’s words escaping the second he tries to open his mouth.

Only once a woman’s laughter reaches both of them, they scramble apart and back to their feet.

“Thank God you were here, Shiro!” Says auntie Nana, clearly trying to bite back laughter. “I would have probably fallen over myself too if I had tried to catch him when he lost his footing. Oh right, this is-“

“I- I um. I googled him,” Shiro says, glancing at Keith who glances back and then turns blazing red.

Aunt Nana snorts again. “Taking my advice for once? Good on you, kiddo.”

“Shush,” Shiro says and turns towards Keith. Keith stares. He looks smaller in real life, huddled up in his t-shirt and red cap and red shorts. Shiro kind of wants to pull him closer again.

_(Oh fuck)_

Keith glances from Shiro to Nana.

Nana’s eyes widen. “Ohhh, right! Keith, meet Shiro. Shiro, meet Keith.”

Shiro offers a smile. Wonders a little why Keith doesn’t quite look him in the eye but at least Keith takes the offered hand. They shake on it. Keith takes a step back but he smiles, hands tucked safely into his pockets. His smile is a little thing, almost shy so Shiro smiles a little wider for him.

“Nice to meet you, Keith.”

Nana whispers the words back to Keith in English. Keith bites his lip.

“Nice to... meet you, Shiro,” he says, his Japanese so adorably clumsy, his entire being clearly so nervous that Shiro has to cross his arms to not just go for it and hug him.

“Aw,” Nana says, elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m in physical pain when I watch you two so we better get a move on. Are you headed to the temple, Shiro?”

Shiro nods.

Nana’s face brightens. “You know, we were headed there too, I figured I’d show Keith around town sooo, why don’t we go together?” She repeats the question to Keith in English who glances at Shiro, then nods.

“I feel bad for talking over him,” Shiro says as he takes the lead in getting them up the hill and back towards the temple. “But I just want to ask- when did he arrive?”

Nana links her arm with Keith and makes a thoughtful noise. “Yesterday-evening. The poor thing was tuckered out so he pretty much just slept for thirteen hours straight. Still kind of tired but he really wanted to go out today.”

Shiro hums. He glances behind himself. Nana and Keith are talking, Nana’s high ponytail swishing in the slight breeze, Keith’s shoulder-length, unevenly cut hair free to fall all over his face.

Shiro’s toes bang against one step and he nearly stumbles. He bites back a yelp of his own and glances back again to see them both staring up at him.

“Does someone else need a bit more rest too?” Nana asks.

Keith bites his lip again.

Shiro clears his throat, cheeks burning. “Shush you, auntie. I’m just thinking.” He finally remembers to turn off his music player and put it and his earbuds into the holder on his arm. He hums under his breath as he finally reaches the top of the hill. There it is, the temple nestled in between trees, almost humming with its own homely power.

“Behold, the Miho-jinja Shrine,” Shiro says and gestures.

Keith grins, clearly awed as he’s lead towards it.

“Now that we’re here, might as well pray,” Shiro says and beckons for Keith to join him closer. Keith comes, Nana shadowing him with a curious look in her eye.

Knowing that Keith won’t understand, Shiro instead points at Keith, then at himself. He washes his hands with the wooden ladle _hishaku_ and then nudges for Keith to do the same.

Shiro points at the ladle. “Hishaku,” he says.

Keith looks at him, repeats the word carefully. Then repeats the motions, a little sweet flush on his cheeks.

It deepens when Shiro gently squeezes his shoulder and grins at him.

Nana stays silent at their back, watching them. Shiro feels his skin prickle with her gaze but she just smiles innocently at his direction when he looks back at her.

Maybe she wants to give Shiro and Keith some time to focus. Whatever the reason, Shiro is surprised and happy how quickly Keith’s apparent shyness has been pushed aside and instead Keith is following his every movement with sharp eyes.

Shiro almost feels a little overwhelmed at being watched so closely. He still continues to talk.

“So then you do this.” He rings the bell. “Just once is enough, you’ll anger the gods if you keep ringing it like a dork. No, don’t take out your wallet; I’ll put some coins in for you. Just a few yen is fine.”

Keith pushes his little coin bag back into his pocket and watches as Shiro gives his small donation to the shrine.

“Then we bow.”

Shiro can feel how his lips just keep curving upwards. “Then we clap. Just like that.”

Nana murmurs a few translations to Keith who nods here and there, his lips parted just slightly. Keith mimics everything to a T, even the part where they bow their heads and actually pray.

Shiro prays the usual. Health for his friends and family. For more productive days to come. His application for yet another online course to go through. Then he adds something extra, just for himself.

_Let me get to know this person next to me._

They leave the shrine with their heads held high, their conversation not as smoothly flowing as Shiro would like but it’s worth it, just to make Keith crack a smile.

“You know, auntie, if you want me to take him off your hands, I have some time,” Shiro says as they descend back down the steps.

“Hmm? It’s fine, it’s fine. My darling isn’t coming back until late in the evening so I have almost too much free time. You’re free to hang around with us though, if you want. You’re the one who lives here fulltime after all.”

Aunt Nana has once more linked her arm with Keith’s. Keith’s shoulders are tense but his posture is impeccable.

Shiro is almost a little envious.

“Uh? Oh, yeah. If he’s cool with it.”

Aunt Nana snorts, then nudges Keith and asks him.

Shiro lifts an eyebrow when Keith glances up at him. _“Yeah,”_ Keith says.

Shiro smiles back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's still more like "oh no he's hot" at first sight than anything else but they're gonna spend a lot of time together
> 
> also i apologize to anyone who lives in japan lmao. i try my best. (also i took a little creative license with describing the temple: it seems like a pretty cool place irl though)
> 
> also come yell at me about sheith @ aarnivalkeaa.tumblr.com 
> 
> also you're all beautiful and great and comments make my day and kudos makes my day and i hope this made you smile!


	5. I can't think of you without my heart beating faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Nana hang around with Shiro. Keith kinda has an itty-bitty crush. Just a tiny one. Also Nana's hubby finally shows up to deliver a bit of news.

Used to sleeping on every single surface known to man, Keith had fallen asleep instantly. He had woken to his grandmother’s voice, calling his name with the _kun_ attached to his name for added familiarity. Something warm and fuzzy and unfamiliar had woken up in Keith at that and he had dwelt on the feeling for a good long while.

Until Takako had actually pushed the door to his room open and come in with the determination of an old woman undeterred by anything, much less the sight of her estranged grandchild sitting on his futon with an impressive bedhead and a rumpled t-shirt.

Nana had laughed a good long while when he had shuffled into the kitchen.

She’s laughing even now, as Keith recites a tale of one of the mishaps in his training sessions.

“Ohhh boy, your friends sure are something!” She says and claps him on the back.

He doesn’t miss them yet. He nods, his own laughter more subdued, hidden behind his hand. “They make me happy.”

Nana hums, withdrawing her hand but the warmth remains. “And forgive your old aunt for being nosy, but is there anyone else making you happy, hmm?”

Keith fidgets. He follows Shiro with his gaze: their neighbour is walking a good distance ahead of them, humming along with his music player, only occasionally stopping to point at various things in the distance. Goddammit, to think that Keith had tripped in the middle of trying to climb stairs like some kind of a clumsy dork and Shiro had caught him-

Keith rubs his burning cheek.

“Uh, no. I dated a friend for a while,” he says. “Never managed to love her as more than a friend though.”

“I see,” Nana says. She’s looking at him, for so long that Keith’s neck starts to prickle. He looks back at her.

Her eyebrow is lifted. “Just that? Just this one her?”

Keith frowns. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Nana looks at him for a long while before finally smiling and pinching his cheek. “Nothing, nothing. Just me being weird.” She throws her arm around his shoulders and squeezes him to her side.

They walk in amiable silence for a moment, occasionally waving to Shiro who has begun to dance to the music only he hears.

Keith bites back a smile.

Nana nudges his ribs. “He’s a handsome kid, isn’t he?”

“Uh,” Keith says. He hadn’t even thought about it, not really. Sure, objectively Shiro is handsome. Keith’s tongue had been stuck in his throat when he had first looked his saviour from bashing his head open in the eye: who wouldn’t find such broad shoulders or such a chiseled jawline attractive? But Keith’s always been a little weird with his infatuations, even the thing with Acxa had been started by her and he had said yes because he had liked her. He likes her.

Just not like that.

Of course Shiro’s handsome, cute, even with the way he keeps looking like dream and smiling so much.

But that’s it. There’s nothing more to it.

Keith’s never been self-conscious of the fact that his infatuations stretch from girls to guys: it’s always been a part of him and it will always be. So even now he just shrugs, follows Shiro’s dancing feet as he hops on ahead of them.

“I guess,” Keith says.

“Hmm,” says Nana again. “The old folks might not understand so well, they’ve been living in the same place their whole lives after all, but you know- I get it. If you wanna talk, I’m here. Well, I have to be as your translator anyway so-“

Keith flushes. “Sorry. You don’t have to.”

She nudges him again, harder this time. “Oh shush. I wanna be here.”

This time Keith doesn’t prevent himself from grinning.

Maybe it’s a good thing, because right at that moment, Shiro turns around and jogs back to them. He speaks to Nana first in his beautiful, melodious voice. Then Shiro turns the force of his sunshine-face to Keith and offers a hand.

Keith takes it, feels his face grow hot when Shiro claps it between his own and squeezes.

 _“Jaa ne,_ Keith,” Shiro says. He adds the same _–kun_ after Keith’s name as Keith’s grandmother does. Keith’s toes curl in his sandals.

For a moment he just gapes. Then he squeezes Shiro’s hands back. “Bye bye, Shiro.”

It’s worth it to say Shiro’s name, because of the smile that blooms like a sunflower on that handsome face.

Shiro says something longer to Nana who merely waves her hand dismissively at him before jogging away.

“He’s such a nice kid, that one,” Nana says and leads Keith away, towards the harbor. “There really isn’t anyone his age in here, mostly just the old folks and the kids but Shiro honest-to-god likes living here.”

“I don’t think I can blame him,” Keith says and takes in a lungful of crisp air. Somewhere above, a seagull cries. “The air is so clean.”

“Sure. But it’s also pretty boring. There really isn’t much to do in here,” Nana says. “Don’t tell the folks I said so, they don’t even think city-life is worth it.”

“It has its positive sides,” Keith says and leads them to a railing overseeing most of the harbor. There are men clearly unloading a netful of fish from one of the fishing boats. Even the smell emanating from it doesn’t really bother Keith. “But it’s never peaceful. Not like this.”

Nana hums. “I hope you’ll stay for a good while, kiddo. You look like you need a good long rest.”

She reaches to ruffle his hair which he retaliates by swatting her hand away.

Their playing around elicits some attention, as the next thing Keith knows, they’re surrounded by five knee-high little hobbits, all unbearably cute with thick black hair and jammering on in clumsy Japanese.

Nana snorts. She points from one tiny head to another, introducing all of them to Keith who instantly forgets their names, rather overwhelmed by the attention.

“What are they saying?” He whispers to Nana.

“Just their curiousity, kiddo. Also you’re kind of a local celebrity,” Nana says, now looking a little flustered. “I might have let it slip that you’re famous in America and the entire neighbourhood just might… know…”

Keith blinks, in the middle of patting one tiny boy’s head and trying not to cry at the sight of that tiny face beaming up at him.

“What?”

Of course he knows he’s famous. It’s not like he’s famous enough to get recognized on the street- aside from that particularly memorable time when he was on a date with Acxa and a fangirl hyperventilated her way through a meeting that left Keith uncomfortable and Acxa rolling her eyes- and the ballet scene doesn’t invite the most fanatical type of fans in general.

Still. Somehow Keith starts to squirm at the thought of every single person in this village knowing who he is. “Auntie-“

Nana bites her lip and then says something to the kids, says it again in a sterner voice when they chirp something back. They scatter like a group of tiny, brightly-dressed mice.

Keith still stares at her.

“Sorry, kiddo! It wasn’t even really me, I told Mrs Kurusu at the end of the street and she told her kids and those kids told their friends and their friends told their parents and of course your grandparents have been so excited- even Shiro googled you when I told-“

Nana bites her tongue, her palm on her mouth, her eyes widening. “Whoops?”

Keith’s stomach drops. “Shiro did?”

Is that why Shiro had been staring at him so much? If Shiro has really been living in this village all his life and doesn’t really seem like the type to hang around the internet- maybe- Keith’s train of thought stutters to a halt and promptly crashes.

Maybe Keith is the one who should be googling himself. He hopes Shiro had seen the good performances at least. Keith knows for sure that at least one of his biggest failures as a ballet dancer has gone viral once. Might even still be up on YouTube.

“Honestly, I’m sorry,” Nana says and takes his hand between hers. “Things spread very easily in such a small place.”

Keith shakes his head. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m just surprised. Ballet is kind of- it just invites a certain crowd.” He flushes and withdraws his hand. “Not that I’m saying you can’t enjoy it even if you don’t understand it. Dance, after all, is universal.”

Nana smiles. “That’s a nice face you’re making there, kiddo. I showed some of your performances to the old folks. Mama thinks you need to eat more. Papa just gave me thumbs up.”

Keith snorts. “I eat a perfectly well. Also I have explicit permission from my boss to not worry about my diet so much while I’m here so don’t worry about it either.” Keith squints into the wind and the sun. He watches the fishermen shout something at each other. “I’m gonna try my best to relax.”

Nana pats his shoulder. “And that’s all we ask, kiddo. That you enjoy yourself and get to know us, okay?”

Keith nods. “Okay.”

They walk around a little more, arms linked, Nana chattering on and on, pointing at various things and people. Keith begins to feel more than a little overwhelmed after a while and tugs her back towards the Kogane-house.

On their way they spot Shiro on his way to a clearly freshly washed black Honda. He’s changed from his jogging-gear into something just as casual, the sleeves of his shirt stretching at the biceps. Keith definitely doesn’t look for an inappropriate amount of time, even as Shiro waves cheerfully at them.

They wave back.

“He said he had a thing with a friend in the next town. He’s a popular guy, our Takashi.”

“Takashi?”

“Ohh, right.” Nana tugs him back to their house. They shout out a harmonious “We’re home!” and hear the answering shout from the direction of the living room area. They change into their slippers.

“Shiro comes from Shirogane, aka his surname. His first name’s Takashi but only a few have ended up calling him that. It’s just the way it is.”

Keith shuffles after Nana into the kitchen.

Nana directs him to the table and starts making tea, her movements half-hearted. “It’s kind of a funny story. Well, most of us, not for him that much. It’s this thing that runs in his family. You haven’t seen his parents yet, but you’ll understand. Pretty much all of them start having white or grey hairs at a very early age.  Shiro already has a bit at the fringe.”

“Really?” Keith digs into a pair of _onigiri_ while watching his aunt.

Nana huffs. “It’s just a few hairs but some classmates at his high school noticed and the nickname stuck. Nowadays he just dyes it, I think. So much that nobody but him knows if he’s already honestly going white.” Nana throws a smile at Keith. “That poor boy thinks it makes him look old.”

Keith thinks back to Shiro’s broad shoulders and warm arms that had so securely locked around Keith’s waist. “He’s certainly very, um, mature-looking. And before I feel weird, how old is he again?”

Nana sets a cup in front of him. Keith thanks her. Nana’s lips are twitching. “Twenty-four.”

Keith looks away from her. _Has_ to look away from her. _What am I even doing?_ “Oh. I thought he was older.”

“Only four years younger than you,” Nana says.

Keith looks back up. She ruffles his hair. “Of course I should know how old my nephew is, you dork.”

Keith chews on the _onigiri._ “He, uh, Shiro seems nice.”

“He is, he is! Definitely the type to help old ladies cross the street and never stay past ten in the evening. That I know of. I’m not his mother.”

“Everyone’s got flaws,” Keith says wisely and sips his tea.

Nana snorts. “Tell me when you find Shiro’s. He’s so nice I sometimes wonder what the hell. And the way he snatched you, _whew.”_

Keith freezes. “Don’t remind me.” He’ll probably have Shiro’s wide eyes etched into his eyeballs forever. And the feeling for Shiro’s muscles tight around his waist.

Nana’s cackle snaps him out of the memory. “I should have had a camera! Thank God he was there though, you could have had a real tumble!”

“Yeah, sure,” Keith huffs. “At least I embarrassed myself in front of someone who won’t be laughing at my expense later on. I hope.”

“Aw. Don’t you worry, kiddo. Shiro’s not the type to make fun of people. Although the sight of you in his arms was kind of fun- hey, don’t throw rice at me!”

Keith withdraws the threatening hand holding the remains of his _onigiri_. “Like I would waste food,” he murmurs.

“Just teasing you,” Nana says. “It’d be good for Shiro to have a friend in the village, honestly. Even if you’re not staying for long. He has his friends in the big cities and they sometimes visit him here but he’s turning into such an old man because he hangs with all the old guys all day long.” She clicks her tongue and sips her own tea. “Maybe I’ll just saddle you on him and he can show you around.”

Keith’s nose wrinkles. “I’d hate to be a bother on him though, especially since I can’t speak the language.”

“You wouldn’t be a bother,” Nana says. “And Shiro’s a big boy. He’d tell you or any of us if he had other things to do. Usually he does but we could always ask him? This was apparently one of his rare days off. He’s usually always off with his father or in Tokyo or just doing so much he’s going to age prematurely.”

Keith has to smile at that. “You sound like a big sister. Or a mom.”

Nana makes a face at him. “Me and Hidetaka have stayed childless for a reason, kiddo. I guess I’m shoving all my motherly instincts at Shiro though. He makes it easy by being just so, uh, nice.”

Keith hums and shoves more food into his stomach.

They chat a bit more about this and that before Nana leaves him to his thoughts. And a lot there are. He’s got to organize so many things: get his Japanese phone which means borrowing a car or getting a ride to Tokyo. Then talking to his friends back in the US. Then getting some practice done. Vacation or not, he’s not going to just sit around or have nice little walks when he’s got to keep up at least some of his fitness.

Maybe he could ask Shiro where Shiro works out. Unless he just does it at home.

Keith twirls his spoon and chopsticks in his hands, playing and trying to focus on anything else but the memory of Shiro’s biceps.

What am I _doing?_

He eats until he feels suitably full and starts cleaning up after himself, wondering if he hasn’t been walking around in the sunshine for too long.

X

Keith spends the rest of the day mostly in the house, having odd one-sided conversations with his grandparents. Nishiki seems content to be just watching some black and white samurai-movie with subtitles. Takako seems content in patting Keith’s hand and keeping him well-fed.

Keith doesn’t really dare to ask where Nana’s gone and doesn’t have the words for it so he retreats to his room to finally unpack his bags. He doesn’t dare to spread them out too much but just enough that it at least looks like he’s staying for a while.

After that, he starts reading.

He’d forgotten to ask about the house’s Wi-Fi. If there even is one.

Somehow, he doesn’t think he’d mind that too much.

X

Nana returns later on, by the time the clock is closer towards night time and both grandparents have already started to prepare for bed.

 _“I’m home!”_ She shouts from the door.

Keith gets up from his futon and pads out of his room. “Hey.”

Nana’s accompanied by an equally tall man with an enviable jawline and very, very dark eyes.

Keith stills.

Nana’s helping the man out of his coat and then Keith sees the glimmer in the man’s ring-finger. “Husband?” He asks, tilting his head.

“Right in one,” says the man with an amused huff.

Keith blushes. “Oh.” _Why did I think- foot, out of the mouth._ He still comes closer to shake hands with the man who introduces himself as Hidetaka Nishigori and Nana’s long-time husband.

“So you’re Ryou’s kid then,” Hidetaka says, towering easily over Keith.

Keith never thought himself to be particularly small but this town seems to have something in the water if it produces guys like this and Shiro.

“Yep,” he says. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “Nana’s been super-nice.”

Hidetaka huffs, his smile so small it’s barely there but Nana looks like he hung the moon anyway. “That’s my Nana for you. And you’re family, aren’t you? Of course she’s been nice. I won’t be around much since I’m, and I quote, a workaholic, unquote but I’ll be around sometime.”

Keith nods.

Hidetaka then hums. “Oh, right. I ran into that Shirogane-kid. He’ll be back the day after tomorrow and says he has some time then so if you want, he can show you around? He’s the one who lives and breathes this town after all.”

Keith fidgets more. “Um.”

“Told you, I don’t think it matters that much that you can’t have a fluent conversation. I’ll join you if you want, Keith, but do you really want to hang around with me all the time?” Nana asks, crossing her arms.

“Well,” Keith starts to say, his mouth snapping closed. “If Shiro doesn’t mind me clutching a dictionary with me, then okay. Also- I really need a phone or like, a laptop. I gotta contact my boss. Is there a way I could get to a city where I can buy one or-“

Hidetaka and Nana share a look. “We could take you. There’s a mobile store next town over, you won’t even have to go all the way to the big cities,” Nana says. “And I’ll even tell you the Wi-Fi password.”

Keith nods and thanks her.

He really, really doesn’t think about the fact that he’s going to spend a day with just Shiro.

He _doesn’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: Shiro does things and Keith can't even. 
> 
> Pining is in the air but do these dorks even realize it?
> 
> also sorry for such a ~world building chapter. i promise there'll be more sheiths later


	6. sharing a meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One look and Shiro's a goner.

Spending the day at Okayama had been a good idea: Shiro had met his family’s customers- both old and new- and spent time with a batch of Shirogane-cousins and even had the time to pick up an updated Japanese-English-dictionary. Just for, you know, to have it.

By the time he’s driving back to Mihonoseki, he’s exhausted but happy. The occasional anxiety and almost boredom that sometimes plagues him is long gone, his limbs aching with the back and forth he’d done today. He even has the window of the family car rolled low and he’s singing along with the radio. His fingers tap the steering wheel, his eyes on the road.

The evening is setting quickly, but Shiro’s mind is still buzzing so much that he decides to go for a walk around the neighbourhood and maybe grab a bite if uncle Jiro’s food stall is still up. It generally is, the old man being as punctual as clockwork and his ramen generally better than even what Shiro’s parents make.

Not that he’d ever say that to their faces.

The song changes to something more upbeat after a row of ads and Shiro turns up the volume. This is what he likes the best next to spending time with his loved ones- and maybe stargazing- just him and the road and music.

Shiro prefers the company of others than just himself usually but sometimes it does the mind good to just be alone.

He’s still glad to see the familiar turn of the road, his smile soft and small as he turns towards home.

Mihonoseki is safe, unchanged by the comings and goings of the rest of the world. It’s his sanctuary despite the secrets- well, the secret- he keeps, despite there really being nothing much to do.

He slows the car down to a crawl, the ground crunching under the heavy wheels as he drives carefully to his family’s yard. He goes in to give the keys back to his father- thank God his father doesn’t ask him further questions, just wishes him a good evening- and gives Hanten a kiss to his tiny pink nose and gives Hachi a few dozen belly rubs and takes her out when his mother asks, and then heads to his own tiny place. After a quick chat with his roommates- and another dozen belly rubs to the panting Hachi-, he changes into something lighter, grabs one of his lighter jackets and heads back outside.

The evening is only slightly cooler than the day, sun still tickling the edge of the horizon , colouring everything in gold and red.

Shiro has yet to grow tired of the sight. He doesn’t even take his music player with him, instead just listens to the silence that’s slowly starting to set over his village. A few birds cry overhead, their silhouettes black against the burning sky. The wind tosses a few of Shiro’s longer strands over his eyes and he huffs, shaking his head.

He keeps up a good, brisk pace but doesn’t run, lets Hachi snif her way around, her tail wagging constantly. He even tugs his free hand into his pocket, humming the song in his head and lets himself fall back into his thoughts: the same ones that have begun to be occupied by the newcomer to the village.

If only they could speak each other’s languages properly, Shiro gets the feeling Keith would have a lot to say: and Shiro could tell Keith himself what’s on his mind. Shiro has the feeling Keith would maybe even understand despite their obviously different upbringings and cultural backgrounds.

Keith’s Japanese heritage is clear from his slender features and from his thick, black hair but there’s just enough something different to make him stand out among Shiro’s people.

And by Gods above and below and all around them, but Shiro can even now feel a hint of heat on his cheeks. He rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs. He’s certain Keith has loads of friends and even a significant other somewhere in the US. From what little Shiro already knows of him, Shiro’s sure Keith wouldn’t appreciate anyone bothering his vacation and only came here to reconnect with relatives, not hook-up with random neighbours.

Right?

Not that Shiro would hook-up with anyone. Has hooked up with anyone. The last time a possibility had come up, Shiro had frozen up and told his companion that there’s an emergency he must attend to immediately.

That had been one of the most mortifying experiences of his life and had given his foreign friends- namely Lance- a good deal of laughter. Thank God he can laugh about it himself now.

He shakes his head from his thoughts, paying a little more attention to his surroundings before he accidentally walks into someone’s yard or lets his grip on Hachi’s leash slip.

Hachi barks.

“What?”

She turns to look at him. And then lets out another bark. Her tail wags even harder. “What, sweetheart?”

She pulls on the leash and then Shiro sees him too: the lone figure by the harbor, stretching a leg against the railing.

“Oh, hey Keith!” Shiro starts to say before Hachi takes it upon herself to start running, her leash slipping straight out of Shiro’s careless fingers.

Shiro yelps and runs after her, yelling at her to take it easy and trying not to laugh when she nearly bowls poor Keith over.

Somehow everyone involved manage to stay upright and when Shiro reaches Hachi and Keith after a few hurried steps, he’s relieved to find Keith biting back laughter and trying to push her overeager nose from his face.

“Hachi,” Shiro says sternly and she withdraws from Keith, sitting down. Her tail keeps on wagging. “Bad girl,” he huffs and taps her nose. She whines at the tone of his voice.

Keith fidgets with the hem of his shirt. He’s clearly dressed for a walk like Shiro but a little unprepared for the weather in just a long tank top and leggings. His ankles look cold between his sneakers and his leggings.

Shiro takes a firmer hold of Hachi’s leash and then offers Keith a smile. “Good evening, Keith,” he says.

“Good evening, Shiro,” Keith says in his sweetly earnest Japanese.

Shiro wants to ask him so much. Is Keith excited for tomorrow? Had Keith gotten a Japanese phone? Is there anything specific he wants to do?

Instead Shiro merely points to his dog and says: “This is Hachi.”

“Hachi?” Keith says and at the sound of her name, Hachi bangs her tail against the ground. Keith’s face melts into a sweet smile. “Hachi,” he says again and she barks, licking the hand he offers.

Shiro watches the way Keith’s hair curls just slightly to tickle his cheeks and neck. A gust of wind throws those strands on his face and raises Keith’s bared skin to goosebumps. Keith shivers visibly and wraps his arms around himself.

Shiro’s halfway out of his jacket before Keith notices and then goes slightly pink, shaking his head. He murmurs something in English as another gust of wind makes him shudder. Shiro huffs and gives him Hachi’s leash, tugging his jacket off himself.

Keith stares as Shiro gently wraps his jacket around Keith’s shivering shoulders.

“Um,” Keith starts to say but Shiro gives him thumbs up.

“It’s okay, I want you to wear it,” he says.

Keith seems to understand because he gives Shiro back Hachi’s leash. Shiro takes it and to his own surprise- and to Keith’s surprise, probably- winks.

Keith shuffles his feet. He tilts his head toward the town’s main road so Shiro nods and they go together. Neither seems to want to go back just yet, Keith making no motions to return to the Kogane house and since Hachi hadn’t even done her duties, Shiro has no need to go back just yet. At least he wore long sleeves and he’s lived here all his life so the wind doesn’t bother him.

Despite the rather forced silence, Shiro doesn’t find it awkward. He finds it almost comforting: the sight of Keith by his side, covered by Shiro’s large jacket, his long legs easily matching Shiro’s pace.

Keith has a very regal profile.

Shiro smiles when Keith glances his way.

Hachi finally stops after some time and does her duty by her usual bushes.

Shiro doesn’t watch her but instead watches Keith and the sunset. Keith watches the sunset too, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Shiro spots the glimmer of a few tiny silver earrings.

“Cute,” he says.

Keith blinks. “Huh?” Is it just the sunset playing tricks to Shiro or has the colour on Keith’s sharp cheeks gone deeper?

Shiro clears his throat and takes a careful step closer. Equally careful is the hand he lifts, the fingers that brush the revealed earlobe.

“Cute,” he says again, only then realizing that Keith might not have even heard of the word.

Or he has, because Keith looks down, biting his lip. “Oh,” he says. “Thanks,” he adds in Japanese.

Shiro can only hope he’ll be able to compliment Keith again if that is the reaction he gets. He shuffles his feet too and opens his mouth to say something again when his hand is tugged.

“Hachi, stop,” he commands when the dog prepares to make her way to where Shiro has already spotted the familiar light of uncle Jiro’s food cart.

Hachi whines.

Shiro turns to Keith. “Do you want some food?” Shiro mimics eating with chopsticks with a grin when Keith blinks at him.

Keith snorts. “Okay,” he says.

Shiro takes the initiative to say hello to uncle Jiro, whose wrinkly face brightens up when he sees them.

“Good evening, kids!” He barks so loud that Keith’s eyes widen.

Shiro motions for him to sit and tightens Hachi’s leash to the nearby street lamp. He gives her a treat from his pocket and tells her to sit before taking a seat himself next to Keith, who looks smaller than he really is under Shiro’s jacket.

“Good evening,” Keith says shyly.

“Good evening,” Shiro says too. “Keith hasn’t been in here before so I figured I’d pay for a little snack for him.” His own stomach grumbles.

Keith bites back a chuckle.

Shiro nudges him gently on the side and then introduces the two to each other.

“Ohhh,” says uncle Jiro. “So this kid is he! Well, gotta give him a taste of my ramen, on the house!”

“Uncle, you don’t have to, I can pay-“ Shiro snaps his mouth shut when uncle Jiro levels one sharp grey gaze at him.

Keith follows the exchange with a raised brow. His mouth opens in what’s probably a protest when uncle Jiro pushes a steaming tea mug over the counter to him.

“Uh-“

“Green tea,” Shiro says. “It’s, uh-“ What the word for ‘free’ in English anyway?

Keith is flushed a sweet faint red.

Uncle Jiro snorts and then clears his throat a couple of times and says in heavily accented, rough English: “No money.”

Keith stares at him for a heavy second then nods.

Shiro nudges him in the side again. Keith nudges right back and takes a careful gulp of his tea.

Shiro refuses to not pay for his own meal so uncle Jiro grudgingly accepts his money and gets him a cup of tea too.

Soon enough there are two steaming bowls of ramen in front of them.

“Shiro,” Keith says. He’s carefully gotten his chopsticks and a poured a glass of water. “Ramen?”

Shiro nods. He then claps his hands together and says: “Let’s eat!”

He hears Keith repeat the word and smiles before digging in. Gods, what bliss. Uncle Jiro’s ramen hits every single of his tastebuds just right and he moans out loud before he can help it.

He swallows hard when he hears sputtering from next to him. Keith is thumping his chest, face red.

“Keith, oh, hey, Keith-“ Shiro lets his chopsticks fall and slips his hands beneath his jacket to thump Keith’s back and rub his chest. “Water, hey, here, drink some water-“

Keith’s eyes are watering as he clasps his water glass with both hands and gulps. Shiro keeps rubbing and patting him more gently now, murmuring an apology after apology.

Uncle Jiro’s whistling as he stares away from them.

Keith finally gets himself back in control and then clears his throat, giving Shiro a thumbs up.

Shiro withdraws his hands. “Okay?”

Keith nods, glancing at him. “O-okay.”

Shiro fills up his glass of water and Keith murmurs a soft thank you.

They manage to eat the rest of the meal without incident, although Keith’s cheeks remain flushed thorough. They place their chopsticks on their mostly empty bowls and gulp the rest of their tea.

“Thank you for the meal,” Shiro says. Keith says the same, with more confidence than before.

“Thank you,” uncle Jiro says and then bids them good night.

They take their leave from the foodcart, Keith still seemingly a little embarrassed by the little episode. Shiro wovs to get a proper conversation out of him the next day. He places a careful hand on Keith’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

Keith pats his hand.

 _Your fingers are cold,_ Shiro thinks. He watches Hachi trot ahead of them, her golden tail waving with her steps.

They don’t speak again until they first reach the Shirogane-house. Keith makes a move to take the jacket off but Shiro shakes his head.

“Tomorrow,” he says.

Keith smiles carefully and nods. He kneels beside Hachi to give her a few scratches behind her big floppy ears and giggles when she licks his nose.

“Cute,” Shiro murmurs, biting back a flush of his own when Keith big beautiful eyes jump at him. “Uhm, Hachi is. Yeah. Goodnight, Keith.”

“G-good night,” Keith says, the word downright melodious from his mouth.

Shiro gives him a little bow and quickly makes his way back to his parents’ and then back to his own place.

The street is empty, the lights off in most houses.

It takes quite a while for Shiro to fall asleep.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get to know each other. Shiro freaks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taps mic* is this thing still on 
> 
> i've got multiple excuses for not updating but: imsomnia, mental health shit, con-weekend, uni classes starting etc etc etc... but here we go with the first 'date' of Shiro & Keith!

Sharing a quiet, neat breakfast with four other people- Nana’s busy husband Hidetaka included- isn’t something Keith is that used to, so he stays quiet through most of it. He listens to his grandmother chatter in her melodious Japanese, his grandfather offer a few grunts here and there and then sign a few times. Nana keeps up most of the conversation, switching neatly between Japanese and English.

Keith feels more than a bit like the famous fish out of water, a stranger in a strange land and all that. His hands begin to quiver when he once again remembers the plan for the day: to spend it with the gentle, friendly Shiro. Keith is not usually into daydreaming about strangers or almost-friends and feels a little uncomfortable doing so without a permission- but still his thoughts go to Shiro’s biceps, Shiro’s smile, Shiro towering easily over him but never making Keith feel intimidated: just safe.

“-ith!”

“Wh-what?” His chopsticks go clattering to the table, a blush threatening to spread to his face when he realizes that the other four are all staring at him.

Hidetaka and Nana are wearing matching grins. Grandmother Takako is squinting. She asks something in Japanese.

“Uh-“

“She wants to know if you’re okay, kiddo,” Nana says. “You look super dazed.”

Keith squirms. “Just… thinking about today, I guess.” Is Nana seeing through him? When he glances at her, she winks and apparently relays the info to grandmother who chuckles. She and Nana continue to chat so Keith continues digging into his breakfast.

He wonders what Shiro will have to show him. He hopes the weather will be a little colder so Keith doesn’t have to see Shiro’s biceps up close and personal. They’re devastating.

And Keith spends his personal life _and_ career surrounded by unfairly beautiful people with unfairly devastating muscles so he should know.

He’s all jittery with nerves by the time he heads outside, dressed lightly but with his usual flannel shirt tied around his waist and Shiro’s jacket under his arm. His cap is low over his eyes, shielding him from the sun curiously peeking behind the shreds of clouds.

It’s only when he’s outside that he even realizes he and Shiro didn’t actually make plans for the time and the place.

“Fuck,” Keith murmurs. Should he go ring Shiro’s doorbell? Does he even live in that house regularly? Keith vaguely remembers Nana mentioning that only Shiro’s parents live in that particular building.

“Fuck,” he says again, just for good measure. Maybe he’ll just… walk. And hope for the best. He clutches his new Japanese phone in his hands and fiddles with the controls. The crash course Nana had given him in its use hadn’t been enough since he feels stupid trying to dig out the camera.

He snaps a few pictures after he finds it, fiddles with the controls some more and nearly flinches when he finds the front camera.

 _Thank god for the cap. I really need a haircut._ He still snaps a picture. For good measure.

It’s in the middle of this process that Shiro actually finds him, some half an hour later. Keith is leaning against the railing by the stairs leading further down to the pier and snapping a few photos of the horizon. Few passerbys had said tentative hellos to Keith, to which Keith had replied with a half-hearted wave and a _good day_ of his own.  

He’s still clutching his phone when Shiro’s tall, broad-shouldered figure emerges from an alley, a Golden Retriever in tow.

“Uh,” Keith says. It’s mostly due to Shiro’s shirt being really tight and his smile being pretty much equal to the sunshine of the day.

 _“Good day,”_ Shiro says. He clicks his tongue as Hachi bounces on Keith, whining her happiness at the sight of him, tail wagging.

Keith can’t keep himself from smiling either and crouching down by her to give her rubs. She gives him doggy kisses, determined to love him no matter how much he laughs and protests and tries to push her away.

“Hachi!” Shiro commands and she withdraws with a whine, her tongue hanging off her mouth.

 _“G-good day,”_ Keith says, straightening then. He makes a few half-hearted attempts at wiping off Hachi’s fur. “Um.” He nudges for Shiro to take his jacket back which Shiro does. Their fingers brush. Keith would shame himself for the shiver of electricity he gives him- how _cliché_ can he get- if it wasn’t so, well, electrifying.

“Thanks,” Shiro says, the corners of his eyes having that tiniest hints of crow’s feet. Keith is oddly distracted by both his adorable attempt at fumbling English and those crow’s feet.

“Yeah,” Keith says after a moment of Completely Not Blatant Staring. He gestures vaguely around himself. “Go?”

Shiro snorts. He pumps his fist and flashes a grin. “Let’s go!”

Once again heat surges through Keith, spreading to his cheeks. _I want to kiss him._ The heat on his face seems to deepen. _Oh god. Oh fuck._ He starts walking after Shiro and the happily panting Hachi, feeling a shred of companionship with the dog. He quickly quickens his steps to walk alongside Shiro and is rewarded for it with another smile that makes his knees almost buckle.

_This is going to be a long day._

x

The first place Shiro takes Keith to is the lighthouse. Keith had spotted it a few times earlier but had yet to ask Nana to take him so this is the next best thing. Or the best thing, considering how utterly adorable Shiro is. Those muscles might make one think Shiro as just one airheaded jock or the type to not walk old ladies across the street- Keith knows Shiro is totally the type, as apparently his own grandmother had been helped across the street by him- or one of the space warriors from Ezor’s favourite games, all grizzled and gruff and love ‘em and leave ‘em.

But Shiro is just beyond words. He doesn’t overwhelm Keith with too much talking, often makes sure they’re both on the same level to understand each other. Shiro waits patiently for the internet to connect so Keith can check this word or that word and actually have a clumsy, one-worded conversation.

Keith learns that Shiro’s favourite colour is black and that Hachi is five years old. Keith tells Shiro that _his_ favourite colour is red to which Shiro replies with something probably snarky that makes his cheeks glow pleasantly.

When Keith asks, one word at a time what it means, Shiro pretends to not hear him.

Keith then learns that Shiro’s parents also have a cat, but the cat hates going outside so he just stays inside all day.

 _“Like me,”_ Keith says- or thinks he says- squinting at the phone screen.

Shiro laughs and gives his shoulder a careful, gentle squeeze. Keith nearly puts his own hand over Shiro’s to keep it there, but decides that would be too creepy. His shoulder stays warm for a long time afterwards though.

The lighthouse itself is interesting, but apparently mostly off-limits to tourists and other visitors so Shiro apologizes. Keith accepts his apology and gently nudges him with an elbow when Shiro looks a little bashful. Keith snaps a few pictures with his phone, puts a few up in his Instagram and twitter- mostly for his followers- and then gets distracted again by Hachi standing on her back legs, her front paws almost on Shiro’s shoulders and licking at his face furiously. Shiro laughs and reprimands her until she goes back down.

Keith’s phone is frozen in his hands and he silently reprimands himself for not taking a picture.

Shiro seems to read his mind though because he gestures towards Keith’s phone, saying the word for it a couple of times and smiling when Keith repeats it. And gives him the phone. What Keith doesn’t expect it is Shiro’s free arm gently wrapping around his shoulders and squeezing.

“Ok?” Shiro asks, his voice so low and warm and nice to listen to.

“O-ok,” Keith says.

Shiro has opened the camera again, both of their flushed faces already on the screen. Keith grimaces at the sight of his own sweaty, blushing face and opens his mouth to protest, but Shiro’s arm around him is heavy and warm and that damn grin is so utterly disarming that he says ok again.

They snap a picture.

And then a few more, this time with the top of Hachi’s head in sight.

They come out pretty well. Shiro gives Keith thumbs up. Keith hastily taps a question into his translator app and then says it out loud.

_“Can I put it in the internet?”_

Shiro shrugs. “Ok,” he says.

Keith is very much not blushing when he does upload the best one into his Instagram. He tries to be neutral in the caption. ( _made a new friend in the neighbourhood! #japanvacay #languagebarriertho #thankgodfortranslatorapps #newfriends)_ He even shows it to Shiro who laughs once more and places his warm palm on Keith’s back.

Keith tries not to purr.

He honestly tries.

He tries not to let it show on his face when his friends and fans begin to comment on the photo, the notifications buzzing once they start walking again.

_koganeismybrogane: OMG_

_ezorizo: OMG BOI DEETS PLS_

_acxalo: “I’m just going on a vacation to find myself and not at all to find a new love of my life” your words, not mine._

_grumpykitten: ^DEETS PLS EASE_

_itsthacehey: It’s good to make new friends, K._

_yu.m.: um that is one hunky dude_

And it goes on. And on. And on. Keith finally shuts off the notifications entirely, blushing fiercely when he notices Shiro’s lifted eyebrow. Keith makes a vague noise towards the opened Instagram.

Shiro seems to get it because he shakes his head, what Keith hopes is a fond smile on his face.

Keith taps a few words to his translator again. _“Not because I am famous. Because you are handsome.”_

Shiro blinks. Hachi whines at being stopped again but sits down dutifully once asked. Shiro points to himself, a clear question in his eyes. _“Me?”_

“Wh- of course you!” Keith barks out in English before he can stop himself. He flushes hot when Shiro’s eyebrow lifts. Keith clears his throat and taps his translator again. _“You are.”_

This time Shiro looks so bashful Keith feels himself die a little bit inside. How on Earth is a guy this goodlooking so bashful when complimented on his looks? What the hell?

“Um,” Shiro starts, shuffling his weight from one foot to another. He steps close to Keith, gently asking him for his phone which Keith gladly gives. Shiro taps out a few words to the translator himself after figuring out how to reverse the languages.

Once Keith reads what Shiro wrote ( _“You’re cute”)_ , he must make some kind of a noise because Shiro starts to laugh and that palm descends on Keith’s back again, gently rubbing him.

X

It only strikes Keith how much this feels like a date once they’re in the third place Shiro shows him: aka the very edge of the beach where no one ever swims or docks their boats. It’s mostly a tiny secluded area tugged between massive rocks but clearly a place that Shiro knows well. He lets Hachi go free as well, her cheerful barks echoing.

If this was a date, this would be the perfect place for a kiss.

That thought distracts Keith long enough that he nearly trips and hits his head, but instead Shiro is there once more to gather him in his arms.

“Fffffff,” says Keith, all air escaping his lungs.

“Okay,” Shiro says, voice amused. He rubs Keith’s back again. He murmurs a few more words that Keith doesn’t recognize: but he can recognize the comforting tone.

 _“Sorry,”_ Keith whispers to him once he’s standing firmly on his own two feet again. They’re both sans shoes, their pants rolled up to their knees. The water licks at their bare feet.

“Okay,” Shiro says, his smile so sweet Keith’s need to kiss him nearly overpowers his sense of dignity and self-preservation and the fact that Shiro probably wouldn’t agree to getting slobbered on by someone walking on two legs and not covered in fur.

They explore this tiny nook of privacy, walk on the ankle-deep water and watch as Hachi runs straight in and swims in circles until Shiro whistles for her to return. She does and barrels almost straight into them. Keith has to protect his phone with his life when she shakes herself.

Keith is still dripping wet once Shiro clips the leash back to Hachi’s collar and straightens to look at him. Shiro snorts.

“Sorry,” he says.

Keith huffs, yanking off his cap to shake his hair. He puts it back on and glances at Shiro- only to notice that Shiro’s staring, head tilted, his smile small.

“Keith,” Shiro says.

Keith opens his mouth. Closes it. Doesn’t move when Shiro steps closer to him, then closer, then leans and- Shiro’s mouth is dry but warm as it presses a kiss to Keith’s cheek.

“Uh,” Keith says.

Shiro stares at him for a long moment then his eyes widen. “Um. Um.” His cheeks are so red when he gives Keith a little bow and murmurs an apology.

Keith’s heart races. “Uhh,” he says again, raising a hand to his cheek. _Oh god. OH GOD!!!!_

“Shi-“

“Okay! Bye!” Yelps Shiro and off he goes, practically running. Hachi is of course overjoyed to be running and starts pulling instantly.

Keith is left blinking.

_Oh GOD._

“Oh _fuck.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anything's weird, if there's anything you wanna see these guys do (aside from smooching and being cute, obviously), just hit me up with a comment either here or at tumblr [aarnivalkeaa] or something
> 
> i hope you like <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Shiro reconcile. And maybe get a little closer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm learning languages myself so i know how awkward it is when you try to talk to someone and then you can't find a single right word
> 
> but thankfully the age of smartphones helps and online dictionaries help 
> 
> poor boys though. but they're trying their best.

Shiro is not a person who avoids issues but rather faces them head on. He doesn’t like leaving people hanging and has never been fond of arguing and would just rather talk things through.

But this? What the hell is he gonna do with this?

He goes back inside when he spots Keith coming up the street from the Kogane-house. Shiro doesn’t actively try to avoid Keith, it just happens: he forgets his keys inside or Hachi’s leash or the dog herself or- the point is that he isn’t trying to avoid Keith.

And he isn’t overreacting to a mere kiss on the cheek.

He had carefully told auntie Nana about it and she had at first laughed, then gone serious and clapped him on the shoulder. Then promptly called him an idiot because apparently in the span of the couple of days or so Keith had ended up missing him.

She had also asked him why he had done it.

He had merely said that Keith had looked like he needed a kiss: that terrifying expression of sorrow shouldn’t be on such a lovely face.

That last part he had kept to himself.

Oh Shiro, auntie Nana had said. She hadn’t been disgusted. She hadn’t even seemed surprised. Shiro’s heart had felt- and still does feel- lighter. Except for the part that already misses Keith.

It’s been like, two days, he tells himself.

But Keith misses you, he tells himself.

Thus, the day- four days later, exactly- finds Shiro standing at Kogane’s door, a bucket of wild flowers in his hands. He had spent a good amount of time gathering every single one. Now he feels utterly ridiculous, utterly exposed but that one text from Keith had been enough- _did I do something wrong_?-  to bring him here. His heart races. His palms are sweaty.

He’s already rung the doorbell and now it’s only time to _wai-_ are those footsteps, oh dear, he hopes it’s neither of the grandparents but they sound lighter, quicker-

“Keith,” Shiro says, breathless instantly.

Keith’s hair is free from its usual ponytail, his toes adorably bare. His t-shirt is falling off his shoulder, hinting at firm, slender muscle.

Shiro blushes instantly. “Oh god,” he says.

Keith blinks. “Shiro,” he says, like saying Shiro for the first time. He opens and closes his mouth like looking for the right word.

For a moment they just stare at each other like two idiots, before Shiro hears someone shout from the house behind Keith. At least it’s auntie Nana and not someone… well, anyone else.

“It’s just me, auntie!” Shiro yells back, eyes still on Keith who has frozen still, hand still on the door.

“I-in?” Keith asks, clearly uncertain of the right word.

Shiro shakes his head. “Um.” _You look cute. I’m sorry I kissed you. I’m sorry I’m not actually that sorry I kissed you. Can we still be friends?_ Too late he realizes a bunch of flowers doesn’t exactly scream platonic but he doesn’t want to not give them either, so he clears his throat and pushes the tiny bucket towards Keith who accepts it with widened eyes.

“Me?” He whispers, holding the flowers between his hands like they were the most delicate, precious thing on the planet.

“Yeah,” Shiro says and offers what he hopes is a genuine smile.

Keith goes red and then he bows. Just a tiny, tiny bow but it’s accompanied by a very small, very cute smile that makes Shiro’s heart tighten painfully in his chest.

Oh God. Oh Gods. Oh whatever God listens.

Before Shiro can panic further, aunt Nana appears like materializing out of thin air behind Keith. She asks something from him to which he replies with his still pink cheeks, still clutching the flowers against his chest. Not crushing them, no. Still treating them like they are precious.

Shiro bristles with the need to- to do something.

He still waits until they’ve finished conversing before aunt Nana- and her impressively lifted eyebrow- turns towards him.

“Got your head out of your butt then, kiddo?”

“Yes?”

She leans out of the doorway and gets something- something that ends up being a jacket that she puts in Keith’s hand, plucking the flowers away. She says something to him to which he once again replies with a nod.

“I know you’ve got your fancy translating apps and stuff, so how about you two go for a little walk,” aunt Nana says and practically pushes Keith outside. Keith nearly stumbles but Shiro snaps to action reflexively, wrapping an arm around a slender waist before Keith can faceplant to the ground.

The door closes with a creak behind them, accompanied by aunt Nana’s- diabolical to Shiro’s ears- laughter.

“Um,” says Keith, straightening but not backing away in horror so that’s good, probably.

“Um,” says Shiro, letting go.   _I want to talk to you properly. I want to know what you do for fun. I want to know if you like to look at stars. I want to know if you like me too._

_Oh god. I like him._

_That’s why this- oh god._

“Shiro,” Keith says, fidgeting. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Keith watches him for a second, pulls on his jacket but doesn’t pull his hair to a ponytail, letting it curl freely under his jaw and on his shoulders. He fidgets for a heartbeat, and then he steps closer and _\- oh._ His lips feel as soft as a feather, as light as one as they press the smallest, smallest kiss to Shiro’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispers in neat, quiet English.

Shiro lifts a hand to his own cheek, the skin hot under his fingers. He’s aware of how wide his eyes have gotten. _Well, he’s born in the US, maybe it’s more normal there to just… touch. What does this mean? Why do you keep blushing? Why does he keep blushing!?_ “I-I-“ English is so foreign to him, somewhat familiar but still foreign enough that it only clumsily sits on his tongue. Even a tiny word like this. “I’m sorry,” he says, the r softer that Keith’s.

But it makes Keith’s lips quirk up.

“Okay,” he says. “It’s okay.”

Shiro smiles back. “Okay.” Does this mean what I think it means? Do you forgive me for surprising you? Do you like me? He mimics walking with two of his fingers and asks: “Walk?”

Keith seems to get it because he nods. “Walk,” he repeats.

Shiro’s cheek tingles. He hesitates, wonders if he should take Keith’s hand but figures that’s a bit too much so instead he just starts walking. Keith falls into step next to him with ease with his long legs.

 _How have you been?_ Shiro thinks and glances at Keith’s regal profile.

“Um, Keith.”

That profile turns to him, eyebrows lifted. Shiro had never managed that perfect curve of just one eyebrow himself: his own naturally too thick, his face too… too anything for it. It fits Keith’s face.

Shiro lifts one finger and digs out his phone, nudging for both of them to stop once more by the usual railing.

So this translator on Shiro’s phone isn’t the best but it might actually get the job done, right?

With a frown he slowly taps out a question. The app translates it. Shiro glances at Keith who has tilted his head, clearly waiting.

“Um.” Shiro clears his throat and reads: _“Do you like… stars?”_ English sounds so rough from his tongue, nothing like his native language.

Keith’s eyes widen a fraction. He opens his mouth and closes it. Then opens it again _. “Y-yes?”_

_Oh. Oh! Yes! He likes them!_

 Shiro licks his lips and taps out another question and then says it out loud: _“Have you… watch them?”_

“Wa- oh. No.” Keith shakes his head. “Um.” He digs out his phone as well and shuffles closer to Shiro so they can see each other’s screens.

Shiro bites back the urge to shift even closer like a total creeper and instead just listens to Keith stammer out an explanation in not entirely accurate Japanese. Apparently Keith has never seen the stars: Los Angeles’ sky is like an entirely different sky from the one seen here.

Shiro promises to show them to Keith.

Keith responds with a smile that melts Shiro into a tiny puddle.

They continue their slow, somewhat linguistically unequal and inaccurate conversation and try to keep their questions and answers brief and easily understandable. Shiro is so distracted by the way the sun makes Keith’s black hair seem so shiny and soft that he always trips on his own feet.

“Whoa!” Keith’s turn to get an arm around Shiro’s waist, Keith’s turn to bite back a smile. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro answers with a blush of his own. At least he didn’t trip and embarrass himself further. At least he didn’t drop his phone, his sole means of communicating somewhat properly.

Shiro has a question he wants an answer to- well, a lot of questions but this is an important one- but he has no idea how to properly ask it. His clumsy, inaccurate English that he can’t even pronounce properly just isn’t gonna cut it- and Keith is not going to understand all the nuances of Japanese with his limited vocabulary. So Shiro fidgets and keeps staring and wondering.

_Would you like to see the stars, Keith?_

“Um, I have a- a-“ Instead of going straight to the translator, Shiro tries to mimic what a telescope does.

Keith snorts, his head tilted.

 _So cute_ , Shiro thinks, a little desperate now. What was the word for watch in English? And stars? With a grunt he taps them out in his phone. “Watch the stars… um.” He points to himself. “With me?”

Keith blinks. “Watch- oh. Ohh.” He glances up at the current sky- pale blue and bright- and then to Shiro. Those eyes are doing things to Shiro’s insides. As is waiting for Keith’s answer. Keith keeps clutching his phone between his hands. “Um. Yeah. Yes. Sure.”

Shiro has to physically bite back the need to squeal or pull Keith into a hug. Instead Shiro merely grins and gives him thumbs up- and quickly taps out what amazing is in English. When he says it, Keith laughs.

“Yes!”

Shiro doesn’t take Keith’s hand. But he’s beginning to think that maybe Keith wouldn’t mind it that much.


	9. stars look better when seen with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stargazing happens. Also a confession. Or two.

Keith is floating. It’s the only way to describe the softness that has settled inside of him, the warmth emanating from that deep, deep space within.

It takes aunt Nana exactly two seconds after taking a look at his face to know something has happened. She takes him aside after breakfast and lifts an eyebrow. She has that kind of a smile on her face that tells Keith enough.

“Soo?” She asks, hands on her hips.

Keith bites back a snort. “We’re friends,” he says.

“Well, I give you that: Shiro’s brought all of us flowers before. Not that often that he brings flowers he picked himself. And he’s never-“ and here aunt Nana wraps an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “- looked at anyone else the way he looks at you.”

Keith tries to brush it off but he had heard Shiro last time: had seen the dumbfounded expression on that handsome face after Keith had kissed him. And Shiro seems to think he’s cute. “I’m- I’m not here to have some summer fling, no matter how cute he is,” Keith says.

Aunt Nana withdraws her arm. “I know that. He knows that.”

“Does he?” Keith doesn’t want to wallow in self-inflicted misery but it grips him by the throat anyway. “I don’t do attraction, auntie. I’ve never needed romance in my life. But I’m still-“ he lifts a hand to his cheek. He finds it warm to his own surprise.

Aunt Nana tilts her head. “It’s nothing to be afraid of, kiddo. Even if it’s a summer fling and it’s not even summer, mind you, or something. And even if you live an ocean away. What scares you about this situation?”

She doesn’t touch him again for which he is grateful. “I’m not scared!” He lowers the volume of his voice instantly. “Or… I don’t know. Isn’t it normal to be intimidated by new things? And I think I already made Shiro think there’s, um, something. But why would he want to do anything with me when I go back home?”

Despite how utterly nice Mihonoseki is, Keith has begun to miss the chaos of his city. It’s easier to get lost in Los Angeles: here everyone seems to know who he is. Here he can walk a few steps to Shiro’s door.

Despite missing it, Keith hasn’t really spared a thought to returning just yet. Not when this is brewing between him and the nice boy next door.

Aunt Nana clicks her fingers in front of his face, snapping him out of it. “Maybe give our boy a chance? Did you make plans with him?”

At that, Keith flushes. Being around Shiro makes him happy. Keith doesn’t want to see Shiro’s face fall when Keith has to leave him behind and go back: Shiro has a life here and a job and Keith’s job and life are overseas. He still thinks about Shiro’s one-worded questions and clumsy English and feels warm.

“Something about… stars? I think he managed to say he has a telescope?”

Aunt Nana’s eyebrows climb upwards. “Ohh. He does have one. He hasn’t taken it out for a spin in months, though. I think I know where he’s taking you.”

When Keith opens his mouth to ask, she shakes her head with a smile. “Just let him surprise you, kiddo.”

“He’s already done so,” Keith whispers and leaves her be. Thankfully, she doesn’t call after him.

Keith calls his friends and carefully refrains from mentioning Shiro, no matter how much they ask. ( _“You two look like a coupleeee!”_ Ezor shouts, loud enough that Acxa covers her ears.) He exercises some, does some stretches to get his heart racing. He spends an uncountable amount of time of watching the tiny vase on his night table, filled with the flowers Shiro had handpicked for him.

He ends up offering his hand in helping his grandmother with dinner. He probably butchers the pronunciation of the word _help_ but she pushes an apron into his hands anyway.

It ends up being pretty fun: Takako doesn’t let him do much, instead chatters orders at him in Japanese that Keith mostly doesn’t even understand. But once his hands are sticky with rice and smell like fish, they’re both holding back laughter.

Auntie Nana doesn’t talk about Shiro again but Keith does see her throwing significant looks in his direction.

The thing is, Keith does like Shiro. A lot. He barely manages to think about the word _connection_ without feeling like a fool but that’s the only name he can give it: this tender, expectant air between him and Shiro.

There have been a couple of crushes. There was Acxa once. They were nice but not mind-blowing: the love almost entirely platonic.

But all it took for Shiro was a few smiles and here Keith is, quivering at the mere thought of Shiro kissing him. He’d never wanted to kiss someone this badly. Or hold their hand. Or hear them laugh. Or-

Keith stops his thoughts before they can go any deeper and firmly tells him not to give in so easily. He’s still not staying here for good. He still can’t speak Shiro’s language and neither can Shiro speak his. There’s still going to be an ocean between them.

Still Keith’s heart thuds quicker at the thought of Shiro calling his name.

X

_‘Meet me at midnight. Your house. :---) A jacket and a scarf!’_

Shiro’s text- and it’s neat English- surprises Keith out of his mid-exercise trance. It’s not like he had been waiting for it eagerly or anything. He wipes his face and stares at the tiny smiley with warmth blossoming inside of him unlike anything else. When he lifts his hand to his face, it’s warm and not entirely from the exercise either.

Keith’s heart races.

 _How the hell do I ask him if we want snacks? What’s even snacks in Japanese? Is there a word for snacks in Japanese?_ with a frown he goes searching or the right words before tapping out a reply answer to Shiro.

Somehow this system- Shiro trying his best with English and Keith trying his best with Japanese- has worked out for them so far.

_Bring yourself, KeIth. It’s OK! :---)_

“Aw,” Keith whispers to himself and doesn’t, surprisingly enough, feel ridiculous about it.

By the time midnight rolls around, Keith has taken a nap and a shower and told aunt Nana of his plans. She had clearly bitten back a sassy remark and instead just told him to bundle up since the nights could get cold. Despite Shiro’s insistence that Keith doesn’t need to bring anything but himself, aunt Nana makes him take two bottles of homemade berry juice and a couple of rice cakes.

“Meant to be shared,” aunt Nana says with a wink, promptly followed by a yawn. The grandparents have long since gone to bed. “Also, here’s the key. Just let yourself in. Of course, unless you want to stay over at Shiro’s.”

“Wouldn’t his parents mind?” Keith asks, pocketing the key.

“Oh, right. He probably didn’t tell you. Shiro lives most of the time with a couple of roommates a few blocks away. His roomies have probably expected him to bring someone home for years.”

“I’m not- we’re not-“ Keith stammers.

Aunt Nana flicks his forehead. “Where did your mind go, kiddo?

Keith flushes. “Nowhere. Good night, auntie.”

She winks. “Good night, kiddo.”

There’s a careful rap on the door. Aunt Nana ushers Keith towards it and doesn’t even stick around to watch Keith open it to reveal Shiro and his grin and a covered up telescope. He also seems to have a backpack.

 _“Good evening,”_ Shiro says.

 _“Good… evening,”_ Keith says, careful to pronounce it right. He bites his lip.

“Go?” Shiro’s determination to communicate properly with gestures and halting English words and constantly making sure Keith is on board is making it hard to do anything else but swoon.

Keith doesn’t _swoon._

Well. He swoons a little when Shiro actually reaches out, offers his hand like Keith needed help walking out of the door.

Well. He kind of does, mainly because his knees are suddenly a bit weak.

He takes Shiro’s hand. Barely remembers to lock the door behind himself, too focused on their hands connecting, fingers easily intertwining like they were always meant to do so.

“Okay?” Shiro asks, giving him a squeeze.

Keith nods. “Okay.” He wants to dig his phone out to tell Shiro he’s excited and that he’s nervous and that there’re a million things he wants to tell Shiro. Instead he walks by Shiro’s side and lets himself be lead which Shiro seems to do with pleasure.

They keep stealing glances at each other, both smiling when they get caught.

 _“Cute,”_ Shiro whispers in Japanese.

Keith elbows him but Shiro doesn’t let go. “You’re the one who’s cute,” Keith whispers in English. Shiro tilts his head in adorable confusion that shouldn’t even be possible for someone his size and stature.

 _“Cute,”_ Keith repeats, this time in Japanese.

Shiro nudges him with an elbow too, more gently. Probably to not disturb the telescope under his arm- although it seems to have some sort of a shoulder strap- or to accidentally shove Keith too roughly.

 _I don’t think I would mind being pushed around a little roughly by you,_ Keith lets himself think.

Shiro looks at him, longer this time. Is that wistfulness on his face?

“Shiro,” Keith says, glancing around them. The street is ending to make way for a forest and slowly but surely starting to curve up.

“Keith,” Shiro says back, nudging him again.

 _I like you,_ Keith wants to say. Instead he shakes his head and nudges Shiro.

They delve into shoving and elbowing each other and squaffling playfully until Shiro perks up and points ahead. “Look, Keith, look!”

Keith’s not entirely sure what that means but he looks where Shiro’s pointing. And stops. It’s a hill just ahead, a lone tree governing over it like a king. And above the hill there is nothing but…

“Stars,” Keith whispers. There are so many. The hand in his doesn’t let go, doesn’t force him to move. It gives him a squeeze.

“Okay?” Shiro whispers after a moment of silence and Keith staring up, up at the sparkling infinity.

“Okay,” Keith whispers back and looks at his companion. Who’s smiling sweetly at him.

Shiro tilts his head so they go up the hill and set their bags down. Keith has to bite back laughter at the covered telescope: the cover ends up being a picnic blanket that Shiro lays down.

Shiro winks at him.

Keith has to clear his throat three times to clear his head. He takes out the snacks aunt Nana had practically forced on him and spread them on the blanket. Shiro takes out his own share of snacks and then starts setting up the telescope. It’s a magnificent, shiny black thing that’s clearly well-loved for: that much is obvious in the dimly lit night, illuminated by Keith’s phone as he tries to open at least one of the snack bags.

“Pretty,” Keith says and points at the telescope.

Shiro merely hums and sets it to point straight at the vast expanse of the sky. He beckons, even calls Keith’s name like nothing tasted better on his tongue and Keith comes, shuffles close enough that Shiro can help him see through it.

Keith’s only seen the magnitude of the night sky in his dreams, in stories and movies. If there had been a chance to go to a place so rural that there’s no light pollution to hide them, he had been so busy or so exhausted that he hadn’t watched them.

Now he regrets it. He could have had this sight a long time ago: a billion upon billion stars, all blinking at him like beckoning him to come to them, to go see what lies above and beyond.

Keith feels so small, yet so infinite.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers next to him. Shiro’s hand is warm as it settles on Keith’s cheek, gently turning him to face Shiro.

“Shiro,” Keith starts but doesn’t know how to finish. His eyes sting, all of a sudden.

Shiro’s thumb brushes his cheek. Shiro seems to gather himself, then steel himself. Then say, in determined English: “I like you a lot, Keith Kogane.”

Keith blinks. And blinks. The tears that he can feel brimming in his eyes don’t fall. “Yeah?”

Shiro smiles. “Yeah.”

Keith shifts- with one more glance at the winking sky- to face Shiro fully, taking Shiro’s eternally warm hands in his. “Shiro- no. Takashi, was it?”

Shiro’s teeth are very neat and very bright as they peek between his smiling lips. He nods.

“Takashi Shirogane,” Keith starts to say, meeting those kind, kind eyes. Keith’s cheeks burn. “I like you too.”

Shiro squeezes his hands.

Keith squeezes back. “Now I’d like to be kissed. Properly.” Even though Shiro tilts his head in confusion, something seems to strike when Keith starts to lean forward.

“Cute,” Shiro whispers before meeting Keith halfway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miiiiiiiiiiight write an epilogue. because i love me some epilogues. but honestly, this is where the story wanted to end. 
> 
> and my real life obligations, the upcoming kinktober, the upcoming, creeping writer's block (ew do not want) and fked up mental health isn't really gonna let me write a lot so... i'd rather not leave this story hanging anyway.
> 
> I hope this made you smile.


End file.
